The One Great Theft
by Saturn Emway
Summary: As Scipio prepares for the most dangerous raid he has ever attempted, all the other children are excited and happy to help...aside from Hornet. She couldn't despise Scipio's plan more...but is there something else behind her hatred?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: All the characters belong to Cornelia Funke, and not me._

* * *

Someone was shaking Prosper. He had a fleeting mental image of his aunt waking him up so he could put on a ridiculous uniform and go to a prissy boys' school a hundred miles away from Bo. The thought make his eyes snap open, and as it turned out, he was not in Aunt Ester's smelly spare bedroom, but in the Star-Palace on a mattress on the floor. The one to shake him had been Mosca.

"Hurry up, Prop." Mosca stood and gave Prosper a gently nudge with his toe. "Scipio wants us all up."

Prosper rubbed his tired eyes and looked around. Everyone else's bed was empty. He got up and followed Mosca out of the little bedroom five of the six children shared. They walked into the next room. Riccio was arguing with Hornet about something or another. Bo was happily playing with the kittens Scipio had given him. And Scipio himself sat with them, looking stern, his black bird mask in his hands. They all looked up when Prosper and Mosca entered.

"Hi, Sleeping Beauty!" Bo greeted his brother with a grin. Prosper gave him a pat on the head that was meant to be both a morning greeting and a bop for his comment. He sat next to Bo and Hornet. Mosca seated himself next to Riccio. They all looked at Scipio for the news he had promised.

Scipio looked from face to face before beginning. "I'm going to need help on this next visit. Anyone care to volunteer?"

Bo's hand shot up. Prosper pulled it back down again, and Bo pouted.

"I will, as usual," Riccio said importantly. Hornet glared at him before dutifully raising her hand.

"So what's the excursion this time, Thief Lord?" asked Mosca excitedly.

Scipio smiled slyly. "It's a big one this time..."

"But nothing you can't handle, right, Scip?" Bo piped up. Prosper shared an exasperated look with Hornet. Bo could be quite a suck-up.

Scipio went on. He announced commandingly "I'm going to raid the _Galleria dell' Accademia_."

"The Academy of Fine Arts!" gasped Hornet, Mosca, and Riccio in unison. Although they said the same thing at the same time, Prosper could see that it was for very different reasons. Hornet looked shocked and enraged as she said the name of the largest gallery in Venice. Mosca look pleasantly surprised and nervous. Riccio, however, looked ecstatic and excited.

"Scipio, have you lost it?" Hornet screeched. "_La Galleria dell' Accademia_...did it ever occur to you that it's probably the most heavily guarded building in Venice?"

"Yes, it did. That's why I'll have Riccio and Prop check it out for a few days. See any potential entrances, find out the schedules of the guards, et cetera." Scipio, as usual, had a no-nonsense answer at the ready when someone would protest.

"It's the Academy of Fine Arts, Scipio!" Hornet persisted, thrusting her hands out in front of her in emphasis. "Not even you could get in or out of there. You must be insane."

"Calm down, Hornet..." Riccio said in a bored tone, running a hand through his crazy hair. "It's nothing Scipio can't handle."

"Exactly. Good man, Riccio." Scipio agreed solemnly, getting to his feet.

Hornet stood as well and cast Riccio a venomous glare. "Shut up, hedgehog," she hissed, and turned back to Scipio. "Only an idiot would do that."

"Are you saying that I'm an idiot?" said Scipio. The others recoiled at his tone. It was too calm. His face was stony and serious, almost threatening. Mosca stood and backed against the starred curtain. Prosper heaved Bo to his feet and followed suit. Finally even Riccio joined them, watching silently from a safe distance.

Hornet walked over to him. "Maybe I am." Because of Scipio's high-heeled boots, she did not come quite even with him, but looked up to lock his dark eyes with her lighter ones.

There was a taut moment of silence. "Don't you dare," Scipio whispered, "call me an idiot."

"Too late, _Scip_. I am." Hornet returned his fire-ice glare with a cool one, emphasizing 'Scip' just so he would get angry at her for calling him that.

Prosper could see the death in Scipio's gaze from there. _Back down, Hornet_, he thought desperately. _Just back down, and this won't turn ugly_...

Hornet spoke again. "You are in idiot, to even think about pulling a stunt like that. And to put the others in danger because you feel like a challenge."

"You're not my mother." Scipio replied, the fire-ice traveling from his eyes to his voice as he spoke to her. "And what do you know, anyway? You're just a girl..."

Mosca gulped. Scipio had never before chided Hornet because of her gender. He watched as Hornet's hands clenched into claws at her sides, then unclench.

"Don't you dare mark me different because I'm a girl," she hissed at Scipio. She was finally getting angry; her eyes blazed and her jaw was set.

Headstrong Scipio didn't notice, although his gaze showed equal resentment "Well then don't tell me what to do. I'm going to raid the _Galleria_. _You_ can't stop me, because _you're_ just a stupid, worthless girl with a mouth too--"

Hornet slapped him.

After the sound of the smack, there was nothing but a muffled gasp from the other boys. Scipio's head snapped to one side. Hornet withdrew her hand and curled it into a fist at her side. Her eyes showed with angry flames, and her breathing was heavy.

Scipio's expression vanished. Wearing a blank face, he put a hand to the red mark that Hornet had made on his cheek as he turned his head back center. Hornet was the only one who noticed his fingers trembling over the stinging hand print. She glanced down at her own hand, which stung as well, and then looked back to Scipio. Her face softened, and where fury had once been, guilt and a deep remorse took over. "Scipio..." she said quietly.

The Thief Lord didn't respond. He turned quickly, pulled his bird mask over his face, and ran out of the Star-Palace.

"Scipio!" Hornet called after him. But he was gone. The others could hardly hear his footfalls anymore. Hornet looked after him, her heart heavy. Mosca, Riccio, and Prosper looked at each other, all three shocked and worried. They snapped out of their daze when Bo started to sob a moment later. The four boys walked back to the room, leaving Hornet alone. She continued to stare after Scipio.

Outside, the sun was just beginning to show itself over the tops of the buildings. Scipio ran like something was after him, just for the sake of getting away. Under the holes in his mask, his eyes shone in the silver-yellow light with hot tears.


	2. Chapter 2

"I didn't mean to hit him..."

Hornet said this for the tenth time since Scipio had ran out of the Star-Palace about ten minutes before. She had returned to the bedroom and sat on her mattress, where the other boys had looked at her with inquiry, fear, and in Riccio's case, defensive anger. Before they could say anything, she had said the phrase for the first time and countless times since then.

Mosca took notice. "You've said that already..."

"No kidding!" Riccio retorted sourly. He gave Hornet a hard look. "Thanks to you, Scipio's gone and who knows when he'll be back!"

Prosper pointed out the obvious in Riccio's argument. "We never know when Scipio will be back, or where he's going."

Hornet kicked at Riccio. "_I did not mean to hit him_!" she said vehemently. Eleven, Mosca thought to himself. He had a feeling that 'I-didn't-mean-to-hit-him' number twelve was well on its way, if Hornet and Riccio carried on like this.

"But you did..." Prosper said, again finding the need to point out the obvious. Hopefully Death by 'Duh' would end this argument.

"Who's side are you on, Prop?" Hornet snapped. She turned to face the wall. "Forget you guys...go wait for your precious leader outside."

"You can't kick us out! It's our room, too!" Riccio sneered. Bo nodded his head. Prosper almost pointed out to Bo that Riccio was being a jerk, but since Bo held Scipio in very high regard, he decided against it. Prosper was about to take Bo by the hand and lead him out of the room, but Hornet threw her hands up in a gesticulation of agitation and stomped outside out the emergency exit.

The cool morning air calmed her a bit, and she was able to think rationally. She really hadn't meant to slap Scipio like that. Honestly, she thought of him as their leader just as much as the others did. He just made her so mad...

_Why? _She thought suddenly. _Because he said I was a worthless girl, or because he was going to raid the Academy? _With a sigh, she decided that it was the latter. True, she had hated being called worthless because she was a girl, but that was more the final straw. In other circumstances she could handle things like that. But the main reason was that he was going on a terribly dangerous raid and had almost no chance of getting away with it. The guards would be on him in ten seconds flat. He would be taken to jail or (in best-case scenario!) an orphanage. That would be the last the childred saw of him, and they would have to rely on the little money and things they had, and Riccio's nasty habit of pickpocketing to fend for themselves. And Hornet was not going back to the Merciful Sisters because Scipio was being an idiot.

There was no way he could do this without getting caught.

And she was frightened for him.

* * *

Scipio collapsed on the edge of the stone fountain of the Piazza San Marco. He sat hunched over, trying to catch his breath from running. There were few people in the square at the moment, but more were sure to come, like wave after wave in the ocean. Scipio moved his mask momentarily to wipe his eyes dry. He couldn't let people see him cry. The Thief Lord didn't cry.

He rested his head on his hand. Hornet, the little _testa di cavolo_. She would pay for doing that to him. No one did that to him.

But she did. She had the nerve to. But then...Scipio rubbed his brow in thought. Maybe she was right. Who knows? Maybe he couldn't pull off such a fantastic raid. Maybe no one could. Maybe Hornet had been talking sence.

_But, oh God, why did she have to hit me? _The thought still lingered with Scipio, no matter how hard he pushed it away. The pain in his cheek had gone, but the redness might still be there. She had damaged his pride. That was one thing he could never loose. That's right, she had hurt his pride, him one vulnerable spot that no one could reach. She had reached it. He hated her.

This is what he said to himself, abruptly ending his stream of consciousness. He had whispered it aloud: "I hate her."

There was acute force in his words, and the only reason for them was an unabashed protection for his position. He was Scipio, the Thief Lord. Can break into any house, quiet as a breeze, and steal anything without a soul stirring. No girl would ever put him down like that.

But maybe...

He reluctantly admitted to himself that he did feel some guilt. After all, Hornet was not a stupid, crummy girl. Not at all. She was one of the most boy-ish girls he had ever met, that not being a bad thing. Mosca had sometimes told Scipio that if any girl could pull off being a boy for a day, Hornet was it. Scipio had agreed. And Hornet was smart, too. Just a look at all the books she had piled around her bed told you something about her. Upon further reflection, Scipio decided that he did not hate Hornet.

But he would not back down on the fact that she was wrong. He could steal something from the Academy of Fine Arts. It would be hard, yes, but he was tired of these houses with sleeping occupants who didn't even stick a lock on their door at night. A challenge was just what he needed. And the best part was that he could easily sell whatever he took to Barbarossa, and when the _carabinieri_ arrested him for theft no one would believe he had bought it off the kids who really stole it. It was so perfect...why did Hornet not want him to do it? Was she...could she be...

"Scared for me." Scipio whispered, and his eyes turned thoughtful as the Piazza began to flood with people. He pulled his mask over his eyes and walked on, in the opposite direction of the Star-Palace. He walked slowly, with the air of someone reading a book as they walked, or someone in very deep thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Scipio walked around the Piazza San Marco until his legs were sore. He collapsed onto a bench and stared at the sidewalk. Forget about Hornet, he told himself. He had better start planning if he was ever going to be able to pull off the raid of the Academy of Fine Arts. It would be too risky to go in there himself. He would need to have Mosca or Riccio do it, or maybe Prosper. Maybe even Bo could help out a little on this one, if there were any small areas or--

"Hey, kid. What's with the mask?" Someone asked. Scipio looked up. A boy with a gut that drooped over his pants looked back at him. The boy's face was covered in chocolate _gelato_. "Well? Why you wearing it?"

I don't have time for this, Scipio thought. He began to invent an interesting story. "When I was little there was a fire in my house..." he said skeptically.

"_Aaannnddd_?" the kid drawled stupidly.

Scipio rolled his eyes. "And it burnt the skin off my face, what do you think, now scram!" he said, perhaps a little too forcefully. The kid's eyes widened and he waddled away. Sighing, Scipio leaned back against the bench. It was still relatively early in the morning, but tourists were still flooding into the square. Time to go, Scipio thought, and got up.

Upon seeing a pamphlet for the _Galleria dell' Accademia _protruding from a lady's purse, Scipio swiped it with the utmost casualty. He stuffed it under his shirt and began walking in the direction of the Stella.

* * *

"Hornet?" Prosper poked his head out of the doorway into the alley. Hornet lounged against the wall, her face somber and hard. She twirled her braid around her hand, fiddling with the end distractedly. She looked up when she saw Prosper. "Hi, Prop," she said dryly.

"You okay?" he asked, and walked over next to her.

Hornet nodded immediately. But then she realized that she really wasn't okay. She had never been more sorry for anything in her life. Her face screwed up, and a moment later she began to sob. She covered her face with her hands, half embarrassed.

Prosper was taken aback. He had always had a crush on Hornet, and seeing her cry like that made him uneasy. He felt a sort of pleasure that he knew he shouldn't as he put one arm around her, then the other.

Hornet, thankful for his compassion, turned her head and buried her face in his shoulder, and wrapper her hands around his neck. "I didn't mean to...I feel so bad, Prop..."

Prosper nodded. He knew he shouldn't be feeling the least bit happy right now, but her arms around him and his around her filled him with a secret delight.

Presently, Hornet's sobs slowed to a stop. As she gained control of herself, she smiled lightly and gave Prosper a squeeze. "Thanks for the shoulder, Prop," she said.

Prosper hugged her back, suppressing his grin. "Anytime." He half expected her to break away, but she didn't for a moment, and it felt like a long time to Prosper.

Someone said, "So sorry—am I...interrupting anything?" The voice was familiar. Prosper and Hornet jumped apart and looked around. Standing at the mouth of the alley was Scipio. Hornet stared down at her scuffed penny loafers, turning red. Prosper stared. The bird mask his Scipio's face, but his mouth was slightly slack in mild surprise.

"No," Prosper said. "N-Nothing."

"Good." Scipio grinned casually and pulled off his mask. "Because we have a lot of planning to to. Let's get the boys together, Prop, and start working on this. I swiped a map earlier on, so we can figure things out..." He led Prosper inside, purposely not glancing at Hornet.

As Scipio stood at a table surrounding the map with Riccio, Mosca, Prosper and Bo, he couldn't help feeling a little pang of jealousy when he thought of Hornet hugging Prosper. He didn't know why. He and Hornet...there was no romance between them. Prop could have her. Still, there was something he disliked about the memory. He pushed it away as swiftly and as often as he could, but in vain. Despite his best efforts, it kept coming back.

* * *

That evening, Scipio sat alone in the auditorium of the theater, sitting in one of the seats and leafing through the pamphlet. The other boys were in the bedroom, playing a loud game.

Hornet entered the room. Scipio glanced up as she walked over, and then determinedly stared back at the map. Hornet sighed and sat in the seat next to him. "Scipio...?"

"Hmm?" he said absently.

Hornet sighed again. "I have to apologize for what I did. It was wrong, and I didn't mean it."

Scipio scoffed. "About time you apologized..."

She gaped. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"Well, I mean, clearly you were wrong, so I was just waiting for you to come clean. Now that you have, you won't have it on your chest anymore, see?"

Hornet stared at him, open-mouthed. "You're impossible!" she yelled. The four boys looked out from the bedroom at the scene just as Hornet was storming out the door. They retreated quietly, leaving Scipio alone in the silence. And he realized that he had said exactly the wrong thing.

Hornet stomped along the streets. How dare he! The arrogant snot! There she was, apologizing to him, and he was going on like she was doing something for herself! What nerve. She whipped her braid from one shoulder to the other and pulled her thin jacket closer around her in the chill night.

It was only later when she realized that she didn't know where she was going. Oh well, she thought, as long as I'm away from Scipio the Big-Head Thief Lord. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and kicked at a stone.

"Hey, sweetheart," a menacing, unfamiliar voice croaked from behind her. "Where you going in the dark?"

Hornet stopped dead. A moment later, she began to run.


	4. Chapter 4

Just after realizing that he had been very wrong to talk to Hornet like that, Scipio pulled on his mask and swept out the door. He looked up and down the street, but she had gone. He climbed the wall ladder of the abandoned fish market and walked along on the rooftops, hopping from roof to roof across the narrow allies. Hopefully he would find her soon so he could apologize and straighten this out. For some reason he hated that she was mad at him.

Scratch that. He was pretty sure of the reason. He just would never admit it. Just like he could never admit that his stomach dropped to his knees every time he hopped an alleyway to get to another rooftop.

Suddenly, he heard a scream. It sounded oddly like...Hornet!

* * *

Her feet pounded against the sidewalk as she ran. She could hear the footfalls of the stranger behind her. By the sound of it, there might have been more than one. She screamed once, and that was all. Hopefully, someone would hear. Oh, but what adult would be in the abandoned part of the city this time of night?

She skidded and turned into an alleyway. Ducking in and out of the narrow passages was not helping—she could still hear the running boy (boys?) behind her, and she didn't dare look back. She turned into another alley and rammed right into someone. Her first fleeting thought was that the group of boys chasing her had spread out and she had rammed right into one of them. She clutched the front of the boy's shirt in defense, just as his hands lay lightly on her shoulders.

"Hornet..." he said. She was about to scream again, but then she looked up, wondering how this boy could know her name. Their eyes met.

"Scipio!" she exclaimed. "T-They...the..."

At that moment, three boys rounded the corner. One was tall and lanky, with a nose too large for his face. The second one could have been his twin, however, with blond hair and a normal-sized nose. The third one, clearly the ring leader, was one Scipio recognized. It was the boy with the big gut he had seen in the Piazza San Marco.

Hornet grasped Scipio's arms. He glanced down at her, and saw the shaky fear in her eyes. He looked back at the three boys. "Is there a problem here?" he asked coolly.

The boy with the gut stared. "Hey, it's you! The mask boy from the piazza!"

"Bravo, you have eyeballs," said Scipio bitterly. "Now is there a problem?"

Big Gut glanced sideways at his friends. "Well, we were just...uh..." He paused. "Well, is the girl yours? I mean, you going with her?"

Scipio scoffed. "She's not..." He paused and swallowed. "Yes, she's mine."

The blond boy walked forward. "Well, she doesn't seem too willing. Maybe she'dhave a better time with me." He grasped Hornet's wrist.

Scipio swatted Blondie's hand. He recoiled. Without fully thinking, Scipio turned Hornet's face up to his and kissed her. His stomach dropped to his knees again. There was a light scent of flowery soap and book ink. Her lips were soft, yet firm. A moment later, he pulled away and looked at Blondie through his mask. "Proof enough for you?" he challenged. He resolved then and there that hewould forever keep to himself how much he had enjoyed the kiss.

Big Gut and the Nose Boy whistled. Blondie shrugged. "Guess she is yours after all." He glanced at Hornet and scoffed. "We didn't really want her anyway." The three boys lumbered away.

Hornet stared after them, and then looked up at Scipio. Her eyes were wide in wonder. Scipio gave her a stony look. "Because I had to," he said simply.

She shook her head. "You didn't have to," she whispered.

Slowly, she reached up and removed Scipio's mask. His face was revealed, pale in the dim light. She dropped the black mask on the ground and placed her hands on Scipio's shoulders.

Scipio tensed up. His breathing came in short, fast puffs. His trembling hands found their way around Hornet's waist. It seemed like his hands and arms had a life of their own. He attempted to pull them back, but his fingers had already laced themselves together at the small of her back. His numb mind registered enough to ask her, "But in the alleyway...you and Prosper..."

Hornet shook her head. "No, no. Oh, no!" She laughed uneasily. "Prosper's my friend. He was hugging me...because I was upset. I didn't mean to hit you. I hated it, really. I'm so sorry--"

Scipio shushed her. He slowly began to lean in close to her. Hornet closed her eyes and tilted her head up to his.

Suddenly, something clicked for Scipio. What was he doing? This was Hornet! And he--Oh, man! He was going to kiss her...again! He jumped back, ramming into a wall, hard. Hornet took a step back in surprise.

Scipio rubbed the back of his head, where a small bump was forming. His eyes darted to Hornet. "Don't tell anyone, you hear?" he said, in an arrogant, commanding tone. He scooped up his mask, fitted it around his head, and began walking briskly back to the Stella.

Hornet watched him start to walk. She stared at her feet, sighing back tears. She tried to tell herself that she wouldn't waste her tears on someone like Scipio, but the flow wouldn't stop on her command. She still had the lingering feel of his arms around her as she walked back, some feet behind him.

They carried on in silence for a long time. As they reached the doorway to the Stella, Hornet saw fit to whisper, "Thank you," to Scipio as they waited for someone to answer the door. Scipio nodded quickly as Mosca opened the door and let them inside.

Hornet and Scipio did not speak to each other for the rest of the night.


	5. Chapter 5

The five children at the Star-Palace got up early the next morning. The four boys dressed with eagerness and ate their makeshift breakfast of bread and jam quickly. Hornet dressed in the ladies' room of the theater, long after the boys had eaten. She grabbed a slice of bread for herself and went downstairs.

Bo was trying to persuade Prosper into playing a patty-cake game with him. Meanwhile, Mosca and Riccio were exchanging jokes. Hornet sighed and sat at the far end of the row moodily.

Scipio entered the room several minutes later. He glanced at Hornet, and then announced, "Mosca, Riccio, Prosper, and Bo: you can go to the _Galleria_ today and observe things for me. Find out all the entrances, where guards are posted..." He paused, and his eyes sparkled. "And potential loot." The boys beamed, thankful for a part in this heist.

Scipio turned to Hornet. "And you, Hornet...you'll stay here and try to plot a good route on this map." He tossed her the pamphlet.

She batted it away in midair. "I thought I made it clear that I wouldn't take part in something so stupid," she said bitterly.

Scipio's mouth pressed into a thin line. "Fine. I'll do it." He picked up the battered paper. "But don't expect any new books from the money we get."

"Don't worry. I don't," Hornet got up and looked at Scipio darkly. "And I won't bail you out of jail when you get caught." She passed him without a glance. The boys watched her go.

Riccio jumped up. "Don't worry, Scipio! She's just jealous, cause she won't get to do anything in the _Galleria_ today."

Scipio did not look at Riccio. "She still had something important to do..." he said absently, hardly aware that he was saying it. Once the words were out of his mouth, he covered up for them. "But I can do it better than she could have, I think."

"There you go, Scip!" Bo said optimistically. Prosper could tell that Bo had no idea what was going on. The little boy could easily side with whomever happened to be in the room at the moment.

Scipio nodded and told the boys to head out. They got up, threw on their jackets in a flourish, and were out the door quickly, still thrilled to have such a big part in the raid. In their minds, it was nothing the Thief Lord couldn't do.

Scipio waited for their voices to fade even after the door was closed. He then turned on his heel and sprinted up the stairs to the bedroom. She was sitting on her bed, reading a thick old book. He skidded to a halt in the doorway. Hornet looked up.

"What do you want?" she said icily. Scipio winced at the unfriendliness in her voice.

"Do you really not want to help?" he asked, sitting next to her nonchalantly.

Hornet glared at him and shut her book with a dull thud. "It's stupid and dangerous. I won't do it."

He stared back. "What, you don't think I can do it?"

"No, you—well, I mean...ugh!" She ran a hand across her face. "I worry about you, Scipio. Going off on these raids and everything else...you're going to get caught, I just know it."

"But you've never complained before. What makes this time any different?"

"Oh, Scipio, are you that dumb?" Hornet yelled. Her eyes brimmed with tears. "This isn't just some ritzy house or little store! This is the Academy of Fine Arts. It's the biggest museum in Venice. You'd have to be insane to try to rob it."

The tears were not invisible to Scipio. He suddenly felt towards her the way he did when they were in the street last night. His hands gained their own mind once more, and one reached out. He clasped Hornet's hand in his and laced his fingers through hers. His words, however, were under his control. "It doesn't take insanity. Just experience. Which I have. And I _can _do this, Hornet. I'm tired to people who don't lock their doors and buildings with no alarm systems. This is gonna be big, and I'm gonna pull it off."

The thought came and went: _Hornet, if only you knew the truth..._

Hornet stared down at their intertwined hands. She took a shuddery breath and said, "I'm just afraid you won't."

So he had been right. "I promise, I'll come back to you...um, to everyone, I mean," he corrected himself hastily, but not before Hornet caught the implied. Scipio went on. "And I'll bring with me a piece of art from the Academy. We'll cash it in to Barbarossa and be rich, and I won't have to steal anything else for a long while."

Hornet swallowed and gave a small, joyless grin. "You have an answer to everything, don't you, Thief Lord?"

Scipio grinned back. "Almost everything," he said.

"What's almost?"

Scipio looked at her meaningfully. "I don't know exactly how you would react if I were to kiss you again right now."

Hornet hesitated, and then placed a hand gently on his cheek. "I don't think you need to worry about that..."

Scipio leaned forward, and this time, he did not pull back. Their lips locked, and Scipio felt as if he was jumping over a twenty-foot-wide alleyway.

"Sorry, Hornet, but I couldn't--" Prosper came into the room not a minute later. He stopped dead.

Scipio and Hornet broke apart at the sound of his voice. Scipio blushed a surprising red, stood up hastily, and said to Prosper, "Um—what happened? You all were supposed to be at the Academy to look around."

Prosper's voice was strangled and weak. "Yeah. But I doubled back. I was going to tell Hornet how much I secretly liked her, but..." He gulped. "Guess I was a little late for that." He turned and walked away without another word.

Scipio looked at Hornet. She had put a hand to her mouth in surprise and stood up as well. Scipio looked back at Prosper, who he could just see descending the stairs. "You better talk to him," he said to Hornet without looking at her.

"What do I tell him?" she asked, also watching Prosper.

Scipio took a step towards the door. He turned to face her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever _you_ want," he said, and walked outside.

Hornet stood still for a long time. Then she sat down on her bed to think.


	6. Chapter 6

Prosper ran all the way back to the_Galleria_ building. The others were waiting for him by then entrance. Riccio was looking slightly annoyed. "What kept you, Prop? What'd you have to run all the way back for?"

Prosper made something up to mask his feelings. "I forgot something..." he said simply, and took Bo's hand. "Come on, let's just get this over with..."

Riccio and Mosca exchanged looks as they followed Prosper and Bo inside. They had scraped up enough money to buy tickets for all of them, so they could go inside without sneaking in and getting caught (possibly tightening security for the big night, or so Scipio said).

The paintings in the gallery covered the walls like bugs to flypaper. Mosca, thinking of a way the endlessly complaining Bo could help, had the little boy go up to a painting and look at it with his head tilted to one side, so everyone passing would say how cute he was, but really Bo was instructed to see how the paintings were attached to the wall.

Bo reported back, grinning broadly. "There was a little space! It's not attatched!" he announced. It seemed he couldn't be more proud of his little part.

Riccio looked at the other boys. "All the easier for the Thief Lord," he said in a hushed tone.

Prosper, who had been scowling and silentthe whole time, now scoffed. "The Thief Lord can--"

Mosca covered Bo's ears as Prosper went on.

Riccio stared at Prosper with mixed amazement and anger. "And why d'you say that?" he demanded.

Prosper glared at Riccio. "Oh, quit it, Hedgehog! Stop acting like he's the greatest thing since sliced bread!"

"Jeez, what's gotten into you?" Mosca raised an eyebrow at Prosper as he took his hands off Bo's ears and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You too, Mosca, just get off it!" Prosper put on a mocking tone. "'Hornet, you can stay here and draw the map.' Yeah, whatever!" Prosper rolled his eyes ans dug his hands into his pockets.

"Prop, what the heck are you talking about?" said Riccio.

"Let me tell you something...you know why Hornet didn't come here?" Prosper spat.

"Because the thinks the idea is stupid?" Mosca interjected helpfully.

Prosper threw his hands up vehemently. "No! Scipio told her to stay there so he could start making out with her the moment we left!"

"That's a lie!" yelled Riccio. "Scipio wouldn't do that. Heck, Hornet wouldn't do that! She couldn't hate Scip more at the moment!"

"I'm telling you what I saw," Prosper said bitterly. "Watch Bo, I'm going home." He turned and walked out.

"Prop!" Bo called, and started after him. Mosca caught him by the hand.

"C'mon, Bo," he sighed. "There's lots more to do for the big night. And you can help more." That took Bo's mind off of Prosper for a while, but Mosca couldn't help pondering what Prop had said. Was there any truth to it?

Prosper walked with his head down, and walked around the building a few times aimlessly. He sighed, and muttered, "He's the Thief Lord, all right..." He realized that this time the Thief Lord had stolen something from Prosper. It was probably the worst heist of all.

And Prosper was going to steal it back.

* * *

Back at the Stella, Hornet began to braid and unbraid the same section of her hair over and over absently. She was still embarrassed to have been seen by Prosper while she was kissing Scipio. Dropping her braid and rubbing her hands together, she decided to approach this as logically as she could. Let's see...what did she have to find out?

Prosper and Scipio both liked her. She had to find out which one she could possibly like back. It was all about feeling, she mused.

Now what? Okay. How did she feel when Scipio kissed her? She gave a small, secret smile at the thought. It was like—nothing could ever hurt her, knowing he was there. Scipio's strength, cunning, dash, and maybe even his (almost annoying)foresightmade him a wonderful person. Throw in a gentleman's qualities, some mystery, and a knack for the dangerous, and there he was, in his mask, stalking the darkness. Hornet sighed affectionately.

Now, Prosper. She bit her lip in concentration to recall what happened in the alleyway. Prosper had put his arms around her as she had been crying because she had hit Scipio. Well, that fact was another point in Scipio's favor. But anyway, when Prosper had hugged her, it had been different. He had the air of a best friend, a brother, and a partner. It was good to have someone like that. And it really took someone specialtolove his little brother as much as Prosper loved and cared for Bo. Prosper had kindness, compassion, and sweetness. If only she could blend the two boys together somehow.

But she couldn't. Her choice was theirs. And it would be a difficult one. How would Scipio react if she chose Prosper? Prosper, if she chose Scipio? Scipio's pride would be damaged, she knew that. Prop...well, she didn't know. This was going to be so, so difficult. She had put as much logic as she could possibly into the situation, and still came out empty handed.

After almost an hour more of laborious thinking, she made her decision.


	7. Chapter 7

Scipio spent the entire time downstairs in the auditorium with a pencil. He drew routes on the map, erased them, drew them again. He rubbed his eyes tiredly just as the door opened. Scipio jumped up in surprise. None of the boys were supposed to be back yet. He sighed. It was only Prosper.

"What's up? Back again?" Scipio asked casually.

Prosper gave him a cold glare. "Not as if you care either way..." he drawled.

Scipio rolled his eyes. "Really, Prop, stop acting so childish. You should--"

Prosper cut him off. "_You_ should just keep away from Hornet, alright? She's not interested in you! I like her better than you ever will, and she likes me back! I know it!" As he spoke, Prosper walked towards Scipio until he was directly in front of him. Every time Scipio took a step back, Prosper kept on him with a step forward. He went on with his tirade. "You should just leave and never come back! I'm tired of being an inferior to you. Just get the heck away from her, and stay the heck away from me!"

Scipio shot back, "You're trying to send _me_ away from my own hideout? I should just make you leave! Throw you out, after the way you spoke to me!"

"I can speak to you any way I want! I don't care anymore, alright?" Prosper was breathing fire.

"You will when I send you out of here onto the streets. And don't think any of us will help you when you're starving. I wouldn't care any less if you drowned in the canal."

"Fine! I don't care! I hate you, and I hate what you've done to her!"

"What in the world have _I _done to her? It's _you_, with--"

"Don't make me laugh! Cut the crap!" Prosper yelled, giving Scipio a good shove. Scipio reeled. His eyes blazed, overflowed with hatred, and he curled his fist and punched Prosper in the jaw.

Prosper ran a hand across his swollen, bleeding lip and swung back. Scipio grabbed his wrist, but Prosper kicked him in the stomach. Scipio gasped and doubled over. Prosper kicked him in the face. There was a loud crunching sound, and the Thief Lord was sent sprawling on his back, his nose bent at an odd angle and blood flowing from both nostrils.

Prosper stood where he was. "Don't hit me," he said coldly. "I'm twice the person you'll ever be."

Scipio heaved himself to his feet and wiped his nose with his shirt sleeve. His eyes were still brimming with rage as he lunged at Prosper, knocking him to the floor. Scipio sat on the other boy's chest and punched him repeatedly across the face. "You never insult me again, you stupid twit. Now bug off!"

Prosper yelled and heaved Scipio off of him. He stepped on Scipio's stomach while grabbing his hair in a tight fist and forced him to look up. Their eyes locked. "You sonofagun," whispered Prosper. Scipio was breathing heavily, tensely. He refused to scream, even in Prosper was causing him terrible pain.

It was Prosper's yell a few seconds before that caused Hornet to look up from her book and hurry downstairs. She froze as she watched Prosper pin Scipio to the floor and grab a handful of his hair.

She screamed, "Stop! _Now_!" Prosper looked up at her, his gaze softening a bit as she ran over to them. He shoved Scipio away and walked up to her, and put an arm around her in a gesture that was meant to be reassuring. To his surprise, she cringed and backed away. "What do you two think you're doing?" she demanded.

Scipio moaned got to his feet. He was highly embarrassed to be seen like this, defeated and bloodied. He held a hand to his face to try and cease the lingering flow of blood from his broken nose.

Prosper spoke first. "He thinks he can steal you from me...just like he steals everything else." His voice began to break with tears that he struggled to fight back. "He—he thinks that you're just a prize he's won, like a gold candlestick. I don't, Hornet. I like you--"

"Quiet, you," Scipio said, his voice thick. "You don't know that I think that. Just mind your own business, okay?"

"What are you two talking..." Hornet began. "There..." She didn't know where to start. This whole mess was all her fault. Fresh tears sprung to her eyes. "You're terrible. Both of you!" She ran back upstairs, sobbing.

Prosper began to run after her, but Scipio put his arm out to block him. "Leave her."

"Leave her? What do you mean, leave her?" Prosper tried to move around Scipio's outstretched arm, but Scipio swiftly positioned his person in Prosper's path.

"She's not feeling too partial to any of us right now. Just leave her be for a while."

"Like you would know how she's feeling," Prosper said venomously. However, he did not go upstairs, but turned and started towards the emergency exit.

Hornet's voice from upstairs made him freeze. "So the two of you know," she called, "I already know who I like back."

"Who?" Prosper and Scipio said in unison. Hornet appeared from behind the curtain. She looked at each of the boys, but remained silent. She had thought the decision was hard. Actually voicing it aloud to them...why, it was a nightmare.

She swallowed and opened her mouth to speak. "Scipio..." she began.

"Yes?" Scipio said, with an eagerness in his voice that wasn't completely masked.

The knot in Hornet's throat loosened. She closed her eyes, sighed, and said...

"Hello? We're back!" Bo's cheery voice carried along throughout the theater. Hornet, Scipio, and Prosper shared a sigh of disappointment.

Riccio did a double take when he caught sight of Scipio and Prosper's maimed faces. "Crud, you guys! What happened?"

"Oh." said Scipio. "Prop here fell off the stage, and grabbed me to steady himself, but..." he shrugged indifferently. "We both went down." He grinned. Prosper scowled, but nodded, confirming the lie.

Riccio nodded. "So when's the big raid, Thief Lord?" he asked excitedly. Scipio looked from Riccio to Mosca and Bo.

He beamed. "Why not tonight?" A cheer went up among the boys, and Scipio jumped down as Riccio, Mosca, and Bo began to tell him what they had found, their words falling over each other in a frenzy.

Scipio looked over his shoulder for a moment at Prosper and Hornet, who still stood on the stage. He mouthed so that only they could see, "After."

Hornet gave a sort of silent sigh, nodded, and went back into the room. Prosper just sat where he was and waited. A while later, the details were set out (Prosper was included, but he would never show his real gratitude) and the heist was set. They would leave tonight at midnight.

"I tell you, boys," Scipio said just before he left and the others were going to sleep. "The greatest raid in Venice...for the greatest thief in Venice!"

"Yeah!" All the boys cheered. (Though Prosper did it half-heartedly, mostly to keep up with the masquerade. He settled into an uneasy sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Venice was almost silent at this time of night. Five children, with their faces painted black and their clothing camouflaging with the night, crept out of the shadows, skirting the pools of light created by the street lamps. Scipio, in the lead, gestured for them to hurry, and they soon turned a corner. The _Galleria dell' Accademia_ loomed ahead of them.

While Riccio, Mosca, Prosper, and Bo were thinking of similar things, consisting of the danger, the greatness, and the excitement of tonight, Scipio's mind was racing with very different things. He had realized rather late that he had promised the boys something that he couldn't give them, and he had been extremely stupid to bring them along. Scipio knew that he couldn't break into a museum, with the most advanced security systems in the city. Heck, he could hardly break into a house. But he couldn't tell the others that. Especially not Hornet. So he kept up his charade, raking his mind desperately for a solution for this mess.

They reached the building. The four boys gathered around Scipio. "What now, Thief Lord?" Riccio whispered anxiously. Scipio looked pompously around, examining the door. "I think," he said slowly, "the best thing to do would be..." He paused. _Run home and go to sleep_, he thought, but then shoved the thought away. He said, "Try to get in through one of the windows."

No one questioned him, but Prosper gave him a look that made him shiver. They walked around the building to a high, gold-framed window. Mosca whistled quietly when he saw it. "How're we gonna get in there?"

"Do whatI usually do," Scipio said. He wrapped his hand in a thick cloth, and made a fist, ready to punch through the window to get to the lock on the other side. Maybe if he acted dangerously enough, the other kids would chicken out.

Prosper grabbed Scipio's wrist. "Are you out of your mind? That window is probably rigged with an alarm that'll go off even if you break it."

Scipio shrugged him off nonchalantly. "Easy, Prop. I know what I'm doing."

* * *

Hornet paced the stage of the Stella. She wrung her hands nervously, as she had been doing since the boys left. Why hadn't she stopped them? They were going to get caught, she was sure. She had stood in the doorway as all the boys left in single file, Scipio hanging back so that he could sneak her a kiss. She had silently turned her head away.

It was late, and she was very overtired. Reluctantly, she sat in one of the chairs and leaned back against it, and slept.

* * *

No alarm went off, but the sound of breaking glass was rather loud. Scipio had the others crouch in the shadows for more than thirty minutes before he decided that they should proceed. He reached a hand gingerly through the hole and searched for a latch. "Ha!" he whispered, and there was a soft click. Scipio pushed the window open.

The others looked at him in awe, save for Prosper. He was looking annoyed, and as he passed at the tail of the group to go inside Scipio could have sworn he heard Prosper mutter to him, "Show-off."

They were inside. It was dark and quiet in the long corridor, and their soft footsteps echoed off the high ceiling. And the silence could almost be felt, like a thin blanket covering their noses and mouths. Scipio stared around, and then decided what he needed to do. It was crazy, stupid, and careless, but he had to do it. And he had to make it look like it was an accident.

He gestured the others forward. Mosca and Riccio looked solemn and serious as the followed just behind. Bo was smart enough to keep his mouth shut, but you could tell he was utterly overjoyed to be here. Prosper had come along only to experience the high feeling that a raid brought, perhaps to take his mind off Hornet. If a theft was any other way, he would have stayed home in a heartbeat.

Further down the hallway where the ceiling was much lower, (the height of an average room) Riccio had observed a trapdoor that had lead to the roof of the building. Scipio knew it would come in handy...just not for what he was planning at the moment. He walked over to a painting and gripped the edges haphazardly. Even he knew better...who would be as dumb as to openly take a painting from a wall in a rigged building? But he did, and tried to wrench it from the wall.

As expected by him, but by none of the boys, and alarm blared. Scipio was startled by the audacity of the consistent whining, and immediately grabbed Bo around the middle. Bo was about to cry from fear, but Scipio shushed him quickly and held him up above his head to the trapdoor. "Open it, Bo!" he yelled. "Open it!"

Bo's tiny form trembled in Scipio's hands, but presently the little hand reached up and undid the latch. Bo scrambled up onto the roof and disappeared from sight.

Riccio ran over to help Scipio. They both cupped their hands and had Mosca step on them. To Prosper all this looked a bit like a cheer-leading stunt. The two boys strained to lift Mosca, who was far bigger than Bo but the strongest out of the five, but finally Mosca was on the roof with Bo.

Now Scipio lifted Riccio up as far as he could, and Mosca pulled him up the rest of the way.

Scipio was about to reach up as his as he could to see if he could reach Mosca's outstretched arms, but he was shoved out of the way by Prosper. Scipio gaped, but Prosper was already being heaved up by Riccio and Mosca, Bo "helping" by wrapping his arms around Riccio's waist and tugging.

Prosper was in a matter of twenty seconds with the others. Scipio looked worriedly over his shoulder, for fear of being caught, and yelled to the others, "Two of you take Bo and go! I only need one of you to help!"

On the rooftop, Prosper turned to Riccio and Mosca. "You two take Bo back. I'll help him."

"Are you sure?" Mosca asked warily.

"Of course I'm sure. Just get home, will you?" Prosper snapped. Mosca's eyes widened, but he took Bo's hand and followed Riccio down an escape ladder into a narrow alleyway. They made a break for the theater.

Prosper gazed back down into the trapdoor. Scipio was directly under it with his arms outstretched upwards. "Prop! Help me up!" he yelled.

Prosper's expression was unreadable, stone. He said nothing, but shook his head briefly.

Scipio's mouth dropped. "Prop! Help me!" He could hear the sirens of the _carabinieri_, clear as anything. He cried, "Prop, please! _Prop_!"

But Prosper shook his head again and slammed shut the trapdoor. He climbed off the roof with great agility and ran away as fast as he could.

Inside the _Galleria_, Scipio dropped his arms. He began sprinting down the hallway, making several turns into side wings, making a break for the side exit. But before he could get that far, a group of enormous policemen seized his forearms. He thrashed and hardly listened to what they were saying as they led him out of the building and to the nearest station.

* * *

Mosca, Bo, and Riccio were already back at the Stella when Prosper arrived. Hornet, who was looking terribly worried, jumped up and ran over to him, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Prop!" she sighed, and Prosper was momentarily haunted with the fleeting memory of the helpless Scipio calling his name.

Hornet pulled away from him. "Where's Scipio?"

Prosper froze. Of course she would be worried about _him_. He sighed. "I—left him there."

"You_ what_?" Hornet demanded as Mosca and Riccio gasped.

"I left him. I—imagine the police have got him by now." As he was confessing it he felt guilty, but there was still the joy that Scipio was out of the way and he, Prosper, had Hornet all to himself. He knew that she had chosen him, he just knew it.

Hornet yelled, "You just_ left_ him there to be _arrested?_ Prop, how _could_ you!" She shoved past him and ran into the night. Riccio and Mosca followed, Riccio giving Prosper a shove back for no reason as he passed. Prosper looked back at Bo, who he was relieved was still there, apparently on his side. But then, he hung his head in shame when he realized that Bo was crying.


	9. Chapter 9

Scipio sat at the police station, hanging his head, his mast still on. The police officers were making phone calls and filing reports about him. Although he had been pressured and almost threatened, he refused to tell his name or address. When they tried to make him take off his mask, he almost punched one of them. Why? He didn't know. Perhaps because he was so angry at Prosper. Why did he have to that? Was it just because of Hornet?

An old officer walked up to him. "The benefactor of the piece you tried to grab is upset, son," he said, in an almost fatherly tone. "He's coming in."

"Don't care," Scipio grunted, careful to put on a new tone of voice and keep it on. He sounded vaguely like the fat kid who chased Hornet a few nights ago.

"Just tell us your name, son," the old man said.

"I'm not your son."

The old man bit his wrinkled lip and walked away. Scipio leaned his head against the wall. What help was there now?

As if on cue, the door to the police station burst open, and in ran Hornet, Riccio, and Mosca. They looked out of breath and were red in the face. Scipio jumped up and ran over to them. Hornet took the lead, and caught him in an embrace.

Another officer, this one tall and very skinny, hurried up. "What's all this, huh?"

"Please, signore." Hornet said smoothly, pulling away from Scipio and gestured towards him. "This is my brother...Giancarlo. And these are our friends." She nodded to Riccio and Mosca, who nodded to confirm. Scipio marveled at how easily Hornet could lie, how eloquently the untrue came to her.

"Giancarlo...and last name?" The skinny man was taking notes on a little pad he pulled out of his belt.

Hornet glanced at the floor. "Rossi," she said quickly.

"Hmh...very common name. And can you tell me, Signorina Rossi, why your brother wears that odd mask? He refused to remove it in questioning."

Hornet sighed, not too over-dramatically. "It's a bit of a long story. Giancarlo got a scar across his face, when he was very young and in the kitchen unsupervised. He's very self-conscious about it, and wears the mask."

"Are you aware that your brother is charged with breaking and entering, as well as attempted robbery, at the _Galleria dell' Accademia_?"

"Yes. He was misled by an older friend of his. Although a bit older than me, Giancarlo is very foolish and rather gullible."

Scipio tensed. Lighten up a little, huh, Hornet? But he realized that it was all part of the odd plan that Hornet was devising. He glanced at Riccio and Mosca. By the expressions on their faces, they didn't know what was going on, either. But Hornet stood tall and confident.

The skinny man said, "I will have to inform your parents. What is your address, Signorina?"

Hornet scuffed the floor with her shoe. "We...don't have one."

"_Scusi_? You don't_ have _one?" the skinny man leaned in to her accusingly.

"We're orphans. All of us." Riccio interjected. The first true thing that's been said, thought Scipio randomly.

"Ah. And do you all live at the Merciful Sisters?"

"Yes." Mosca said, eager to help, but he realized that it might have been the wrong thing to say.

"Well, I'll call them now and tell them to get this one as soon as Dottor Massimo gets here and speaks to Giancarlo." The skinny man flipped his notepad closed and replaced it on his belt.

"Dottor Massimo?" Scipio choked out. His father? He deepened his voice to a mild grunt. "He's the benefactor?"

"Yes. Surprised you know him..." The skinny man said as he walked away.

There was a moment of silence. Hornet looked at Scipio. "You alright, Sc—uh, Giancarlo? You look pale..."

Scipio had indeed gone deathly pale. He swallowed painfully and shook his head. "I'm fine, thanks." He sighed. "I just want to get out of here..." That was no lie. If he could just get out of here...

But then the door flew open again, and Dottor Massimo strutted in, in a full suit even at this unreasonably early hour. He scanned the room, and his icy stare fell upon the four children. "Which of these ruffians is the one? Or was it all of them?" he accused, pointing a finger at them. Scipio cowered a bit, and he hoped the others didn't see.

The old officer approached the dottore. "Signor, I must ask you not to be unreasonable..."

"Don't you dare dictate me on how to behave! I donated that piece and I am the patron who rightfully owns it! Do not tell me that I cannot punish the one responsible for damaging it in the way I wish!" He strode over to the children, who were all in slight shock at the power and heart-stopping force in his voice. "Which one of you was it? Go on. _Speak_, will you!"

All four of the children winced. There were a few protests from the officers around them, but the dottore either didn't hear or didn't listen. "SPEAK!" he bellowed.

"Stop yelling at them!" Scipio cried. "I did it, alright?" In his haste, he did not put on the false tone. He realized his mistake and gulped. He could just hope his father did not recognize the voice of his son so very easily.

Thankfully, he didn't. "Take off that mask!" Massimo barked. "What have you got to hide?"

More than you know, thought Scipio. "I will not," he said, his voice cracking with the fear that he was desperately trying to conceal.

"You take off that bloody mask, boy, or I swear I'll--"

"Dottore!" said the skinny officer. "Really, that's quite enough. Signorina Rossi has informed me that Giancarlo here has been misinformed by another source. He is innocent, really."

"You're being too sentimental! I don't care who told him to do it, the point is, he—"

"That, I'm afraid, is not how the law works." The officer nodded to Massimo. "Your insurance will cover it, I'm sure, Dottor Massimo. You should go now, and I'll take the children back to the orphanage."

"You think this is so easily done?" the dottore spat, but he turned on his heel and walked out of the station, slamming the door behind him. Hornet wasn't sure, but she thought that right afterwards she heard Scipio sigh behind her.

Mosca said to the skinny man, "We'll walk back to the orphanage now, signore. Thank you for your help."

The four walked out of the station calmly, without waiting for a protest of any kind. As soon as they were out of view from the window, they began to run.


	10. Chapter 10

As soon as the children were closer to the Stella, they slowed to a walk. Riccio whooped. "That was a close one, huh, Scipio?"

"Definetly," Scipio said, finally able to relax. "Thanks to Hornet's smooth talking."

Mosca grinned. "Yeah, Hornet. You can give me lying lessons, maybe."

Hornet smiled back. "It came easy. Just think: the one time the mighty Thief Lord really screws up, he gets away with it!"

"And I suppose now you have full faith in me again, Hornet?" Scipio teased.

"Yeah. But I hope you don't do anything stupid like that again." Hornet crossed her arms in front of her.

Scipio shook his head. "I have enough sense, Hornet." He became thoughtful and said in a more serious tone, "Why would Prosper do that to me?"

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the others. Hornet cleared her throat and said to Scipio, "It had something to do with...you know."

"_He_ might know, but _we_ don't," Riccio said. "What's going on here?"

Scipio sighed and looked at Hornet. "Do you want to, or shall I?"

Hornet nodded and walked with Riccio and Mosca. By the time she had finished telling them about everything that happened over the past few days, they had arrived at the Stella and the two boys were staring from Scipio to Hornet, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

"Close your mouths before you draw flies..." Hornet retorted good-naturadly. Scipio rang the doorbell and waited. A moment later, Bo pulled the door open.

"Scip!" Bo exclaimed, and hugged Scipio's middle. Scipio froze, his arms pinned awkwardly to his sides, but grinned nonetheless and ruffled Bo's hair. "Where's Prosper?"

"In the room. Pouting." Bo answered simply. He led the others into the auditorium. Scipio pulled off his mask and placed it on a chair. He told the others, "Stay here," and walked behind the curtain. "Prop? You there?" he called into the bedroom.

There was a low grunt in reply. Scipio walked into the room to see Prosper sitting on the bed, his knees drawn up to his chest. He did not respond to Scipio at first, not even looking up.

Scipio stood in the doorway for a while in silence. He finally spoke, but it was only one word: "Why?"

For a one word question, there was a one word answer from Prosper: "Hornet."

At Scipio's call, Hornet came into the room. She was a bit pale, and she was trembling slightly. Her stomach was turning, and the same message ran across her mind like a never-ending ribbon: _This is it_. _This is it. This is it_.

Scipio could hardly speak himself. He managed to choke out, "This is too much. We have to know. It's turning me and Prop against each other, practically." Scipio failed to mention that it was only Prosper turning against him.

Prosper said quietly, "I won't care. I was stupid and jealous. I'm so sorry, Scip."

Scipio nodded dismissively. "Hornet, you said you decided. Now you have to tell us. It's fine either way."

Hornet's eyes darted back and forth between the two boys. She heaved a great, shaking sigh and breathed out, "Scipio."

A smile tried to creep its way across Scipio's features, but he did his best to suppress it. Prosper made a small noise in the back of his throat, and that was all. He stood up and sighed. "Okay. I know now. Thank—Hornet?"

Hornet had gone very pale. She stared at the ground, her breath coming in fluttering puffs. She wrung her hands nervously. "Hornet?" Prosper said again, and took her hands in his. "Hornet, it's alright! Really."

Hornet looked up. "I'm sorry, Prosper. But you make too good a friend to loose in a more serious relationship." She stared at her hands in his. "I need you as a friend, Prop." She smiled weakly.

Prosper returned the grin. It filled him with an odd pride for Hornet to say that to him, but the pang of disappointment did not go away so easily. He no longer wanted to do Scipio any harm, but he still had a flame for Hornet. He would just have to grin and bear it, he resolved as he dropped Hornet's hands. "But now what?"

Scipio slipped his hand into Hornet's. "I can take a break now. We have quite enough money, don't we?"

Hornet nodded. It was like an enormous brick had been taken out of her stomach.

Suddenly, Riccio and Mosca ran in, their eyes wide. Bo followed a moment later. "Scipio! The _carabineri_! They followed us!" Riccio cried.

Scipio turned pale. He ushered the others outside and into the men's bathroom. He shut the door and bolted it tightly. Prosper hugged Bo to him. Scipio recalled Bo would have to go back to his aunt, and Prosper to an orphanage. And Riccio, Mosca, and Hornet...what would happen to them? And himself...Father would have his head.

Scipio raised a finger to his lips, made sure the door was locked, and stood with the others. The shouts of the police officers pierced through the door. Hornet put her arms around Scipio, and he held her tightly. He bit his lip and waited.

It was only a moment later that Scipio realized that he did not have his mask. If the officers got in to the room, there was no hiding who he was.


	11. Chapter 11

It seemed to Prosper that no one in the room was even breathing, himself included. Bo clung to his arm, and he himself had a difficult time swallowing as the voices of the officers got louder, nearer.

Prosper's hands shook, and his eyes darted around the room in paranoia. The voice of one officer penetrated the door. "_È la polizia! Aprite la porta adesso_!"

Hornet looked at the others. She mouthed fearfully, "They know we're here."

Scipio stared around. This was all his fault. Now the others would have to suffer because he was stupid. There was only one small window in the room, not big enough for most of them to fit through. Bo could, though. But what could Bo do? There had to be a way...

There was a pounding on the door, and the lock trembled. "Open this door!" a man called.

Scipio looked to each of the others and raised a finger to his lips. The others nodded. Riccio closed his eyes, and his lips were moving soundlessly. To Scipio he appeared to be praying. But he then saw that Riccio's mouth was forming the word, "please" over and over.

That was it. He had to get out of there. They all had to get out of there. But how? There was no choice, Scipio thought starkly.

As Prosper looked at Scipio, he saw something he had never seen before in the Thief Lord's eyes: defeat. It scared him, for some odd reason the sadness and forlorn look in Scipio's dark eyes sent a chill up and down Prosper's spine. The others noticed it, too. Hornet hugged Scipio, and she looked like she was telling herself not to start crying. Bo was crying, tears silently following the curve of his round cheeks. Mosca and Riccio simply looked frightened and upset. And Scipio stood there with that unsteadying look in his eyes, one arm around Hornet.

The door burst open, and a young redheaded policeman walked inside. The dim light from the ceiling lamps were outshone by the beam of the redhead's flashlight. He called three other officers in, and they took each of the children away, back to the station.All of the policewere all saying something, but none of the children were listening. They were all glancing at each other sadly, sending secret messages with their eyes, all aching for something else...anything but this.

Scipio did not have his mask on, and was recognized immediately by his ragingfather. To fight back the tears, Scipio bit his lip until he drew blood as his father took his arm and led him away. Scipio looked back at the others, sitting in the hard wood chairs lined against the wall of the station. He licked the blood from his lip and sent another message with his gaze: I'm sorry.

The look in his eyes...it was that which haunted Prosper and Hornet. For a fleeting moment, neither cared what would happen to them. It was Scipio they thought of, arrogant Scipio with his bird mask and odd grin and incredible charm. Scipio with the fallen light in his eyes, being led away by an angry man who claimed him but did not want him.

Prosper took Bo's hand, and Bo took Hornet's. Hornet reached for Riccio's hand. Riccio jerked away at first, but then consented and allowed his hand to fall into Hornet's. Mosca took Prosper's other hand.

They waited.

_

* * *

_

_A/N: There will be another chapter, don't worry! Sorry for the sparseness of this one!_

_And for those of you who aren't very fluent in Italian, " È la polizia; aprite la porta adesso" means "It's the police; all of you open the door now."_


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: The rating for this story changed for this chapter, just to be safe. Contains mild domesticviolence. If you find the content rather objectionable, please do not hesitate to stop reading. These elements add to the depth of the story, however if you find them unsettling, I apologize._

* * *

The force of his father's hand flying across his face sent Scipio reeling across the room. He fell against the wall painfully and looked up, eyes wide, at his father.

"Where do I begin!" the dottore bellowed. He hit Scipio again. "Breaking in to a city establishment, ruining a priceless piece, and then!" WHAP. Scipio fell to his knees, sobbing. "Housing hobos in my theater! Sneaking out at night! The police found things gone missing from _my_ house in there! _My_ things!" WHAP. He called Scipio every foul name under the sun. "Putting my reputation in jeopardy just so you can play a game with street bums!" He hit Scipio a last time and took a step back.

Scipio sobbed, holding his bruising face in his hands. The piece wasn't ruined, only slightly bent up. Those weren't hobos, they were orphans and his friends.

The dottore sighed heavily. "You disgust me." He grabbed Scipio's wrist with unnecessary force and heaved him to his feet. "Up to your room, now!" He shoved Scipio towards the stairs. "Lock him in!" He barked to the maid. She looked startled, but nodded dutifully.

Scipio slammed the door to his bedroom behind him. He lay against it and dried his eyes. Upon hearing the lock click and the maid's quiet footsteps, he got up and kicked the door. "I hate you! I hate you!" he stage-whispered to his father, though there was no chance the dottore was listening.

He sat on his bed and ran a hand through his hair. It was not his own fate that troubled him. It was what was going to happen to the others. Hornet, Riccio, Mosca, and Prosper would be taken to an orphanage, for sure. Bo would have to go back with his aunt and they would go back to...wherever it was, away from Venice. This was all his fault.

But then he began to think. What had the others thought when they saw the rich dottore identify the Thief Lord as his son? They must know now that Scipio was never who he said he was. Maybe he would loose them as friends.

But Hornet...he refused to loose her. He liked her too much to loose her. The others, too. What good would any of it do? He was locked in his room, his mask had been taken by the police, and his friends were taken to the Merciful Sisters. There was only one hope, and Scipio knew he had to take the chance.

His double window was on the other side of the room. He walked over and pushed it open. It was a long fall to the street below, but Scipio knew that he had to get to the orphanage. Helooked out to the ledge and wished wildly.

* * *

Riccio, Hornet, Mosca, Prosper and Bo sat on their cots in the orphanage. They stared at the ground sadly. Even Riccio, who had fought the Sisters tooth and nail to get out of taking a bath and putting on new clothes, finally consented. They had been sitting in silence for nearly an hour, ignoring the other children when they asked to play. Finally Riccio said, "This is all Scipio's fault, the little twit."

"No," Prosper said. "It's my fault. If I hadn't left him there, he wouldn't have been caught, and none of this would have ever happened. I was so stupid..."

"It's not you, Prop," Hornet said, her voice thick with the tears she was holding back. "I knew he was going to get caught. I should have stopped him. All of you. I could have stopped you..."

"You probably couldn't have, Hornet," Mosca said. "We were all thinking about the excitement of going on one of the Thief Lord's raids." He scoffed. "Some Thief Lord. Dottor Massimo...one of the most well-off men this side of the canal...identified the Thief Lord as his son. That tells you something."

"He might have been wrong..." Bo said, trying to be helpful. His aunt would come and get him tomorrow night.

Hornet shook her head. "There's only one Scipio," she said solemnly. The truth of this impacted her and the others. Scipio was a unique person in many ways. Hornet, though saddened by Scipio's conceivable lie, secretly thought that it took someone special to be a broken rich boy who trembled at the sight of his father, and then play a daring, dashing street kid who stole for money. Her heart still reached out to Scipio, for the Thief Lord he had been, and the sad, lonely boy he truly was.

* * *

Scipio tried to keep himself from shaking as he stepped out onto the window ledge. There was no way he could jump. With a troubled glance back at the door to his room, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He became the Thief Lord once more, and held his head high. He saw a drainpipe, positioned on the corner of the house. He would have to turn several corners on a twenty-foot-high ledge to get to it. Oh, joy. But the thought of the others in the orphanage presses him on. It seemed that the Thief Lord had one more theft to pull off. And if this one was a failure, the consequences would be worse than ever before. 


	13. Chapter 13

Hornet, Riccio, Mosca, Prosper and Bo sat up in bed long after the other children had gone to sleep. The other orphans had tried on numerous occasions to get them to join in games, but all five had flat-out refused. They found company only in each other.

Riccio ran a hand through his hair, which was now cut short. He scowled. "I hate this!" he whispered loudly. Mosca shushed him and scratched himself where the wool sweater he wore was getting itchy. Hornet had her braid down for the first time in years, and was uncomfortable with her hair falling all around her shoulders.

Bo sat with Prosper. Suddenly Bo began to sob into his brother's shoulder. Hornet got up and sat with him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"D-don't make me go back with Aunt Esther..." Bo sobbed. Prosper hugged Bo tightly.

"I won't..." he said. "Don't worry..."

Riccio and Mosca exchanged guilty glances. They nodded to each other and walked over with the others. Mosca placed an arm around Hornet and the other around Prosper. Riccio put a hand on Bo's shoulder.

Hornet bit her lip to put a rein on her tears. An orphanage meant people would come and take them to separate homes, perhaps as far away from each other as possible. They could be scattered all over Venice, or perhaps all over Italy. That wasn't supposed to happen. They were family, and they loved each other like family...even though some would be hesitant to admit it. She tried to be optimistic. "Scip will help us out of here..." She kept her voice to a whisper.

Riccio scoffed. "You're forgetting, Hornet. The Thief Lord is nothing but a rich man's son. He's a big fat lie."

"That may be so, but he'll help us. I know he will..." Hornet sighed and got into her own bed. "I'm going to sleep. See you all in the morning..."

One by one, the others lay down as well, Riccio trying for a small rebellion by sleeping with his head at the foot of the bed. The others fell asleep quickly, plagued by unsettling dreams.

Only Hornet was awake to hear the soft tap on the window.

She sat up, puzzled. A dark shadow was pressed against the glass. Hornet recognized the shape and got up soundlessly, walking without making a sound to the window. She glanced around. None of the other orphans were stirring at all.

After a moment of fumbling with the latch, the lock clicked open, and the large window opened. Scipio all but fell into Hornet's arms in a warm embrace.

He dropped to the floor with trained silence, and she shut the window again. The two wasted no time in another embrace, and then a quick, shy kiss. "I knew you would come..." Hornet whispered.

Scipio smiled. "I would never leave you guys stranded," he muttered back. "Get the others...we're leaving."

Hornet beamed as she quietly shook Riccio and Prosper awake. Scipio walked over to Bo and shook his shoulder. The little boy whimpered, turned over, and opened his eyes. He beamed and shot up. "Scip!" he stage-whispered, a bit too loudly.

Scipio hurriedly pressed a hand over Bo's mouth. "Shush..." he said. He cocked his head to one side in a 'let's go' gesture and focused on waking Mosca.

Soon all five were ready to go, alert and awake as you please. Scipio opened the window, and put Prosper out first. The two shared a smile only they could understand, and Prosper climbed out down the drainpipe. Mosca was next, and then Bo. Before Riccio went down, he grinned at Scipio wryly. "Came through, huh, rich boy?" he scoffed. But the grin said otherwise. Soon, he was gone.

Scipio turned to Hornet. "Hurry down. Run to the old fish market near the florist shop on _Via Lupo_. I'll meet you there."

Hornet gave Scipio's hand a squeeze. "Thank you," she said, and the next second she was gone.

Scipio made each of the beds so it appeared they had not been slept in at all. Then he scanned the floor for any items that might give hints to where they had gone. Finding none, he went down the pipe himself, just as afraid as the last time. When he was back on solid ground, he ran to get with the others, and away from everything—everything—else.

* * *

It was cold in the main room of the abandoned market, but Mosca got a small fire going in no time. The others crowded around it, as close as they could. Riccio asked Scipio, "Why did you come back for us? You didn't have to."

Scipio looked at Riccio solemnly. "How couldn't I? If it weren't got me, you wouldn't have gotten in there in the first place. I was stupid to think I could pull something like that off. I'm...not who..." He trailed off.

"We know." Hornet said, putting a hand on Scipio's shoulder. "But I understand. One look at your father when we were in the station..." She shivered. "I couldn't live with him either."

"I hate him. I just want to leave forever and not come back." Scipio said vehemently.

"I know a way." Someone said. All heads turned to the speaker. It was Bo.


	14. Chapter 14

"How old are you, Scipio?" Bo asked. He was a bit uncomfortable with the others just staring at him like that. But he thought of a way, and he knew they would like it. But first Scipio had to answer this question right.

"Why?" Scipio asked, confused. "I'm not old enough to move out of the house yet..."

"Well, maybe you're old enough to adopt me. Then you can look after me in a a house of your own. You won't have to go back, and I won't have t go with Esther. So everyone wins." Bo beamed with pride.

Prosper shook his head. "That's a lovely idea, Bo. But Scipio's not old enough to adopt you, or anyone, for that matter."

Bo sighed, discouraged. "You mean I have to go back to Esther?" he pouted.

Scipio shook his head. "She'll be looking for you at the Merciful Sisters, where you won't be. So you won't have to go back with her."

"Where will we go?" Mosca asked. His voice had almost a fearful tone to it. Scipio had been thinking about that as well. The movie theater was out of the question; no doubt the locks had been changed and the doors and windows re-boarded. But as usual, the Thief Lord had an answer.

"We stay here. It's not home...yet. But we can make it like home. It's not hard to get simple things...blankets and such." He paused. "You know I'm not the Thief Lord I said I was. But I still want to look out for you all. We're friends...the best kind. We have something that no one else has: a dependency on each other. That's what makes our bond so unbreakable. If it wasn't...well, I wouldn't have come back for you."

Prosper said, "We know, Scipio. But we can't just stay here. We'll get sick. Who knows if we'll have enough food, without our money? What can we sell?"

Scipio looked at Prosper, a hard look coming across his features. Prosper cowered a bit, and suddenly Scipio smiled. "I'll provide. I always have."

"How do we know?" Riccio demanded.

Scipio was a bit hurt by Riccio's comment of mistrust, but his grin widened. "I'm not the Thief Lord anymore. But I'm still Scipio."

"Our friend," Hornet finished, putting a hand on his shoulder. "And Scipio, not Thief Lord, has been the friend. And he still will be, right?" She looked around the circle for an answer. "Right?" she pressed.

Prosper was the first to speak. "Right."

"Right," Bo mimicked.

"Right." Mosca nodded and smiled as he joined the chorus.

"Right." Riccio readily agreed, apparently not wanting to be left out, but also meaning what he said.

Scipio smiled. "We're all on the run now. But no one ever found us there. And no one will ever find us here."

_He's right_, Hornet thought. _Nothing has changed, really_. But amidst the sort of grim joy, she noted there was a looming dark shadow, like a spreadingink stain. _Would_ anything change?

_

* * *

_

_A/N: This is the second-to-last chapter. I'm sorry for the delay. It was hard to figure out an ending, but I finally did. Enjoy this chapter, and thanks to my faithful readers for their wonderful reviews. The next chapter should be coming soon!_


	15. Chapter 15

_Here we are: the final chapter. I am aware that this ending is nothing like the book ending, but this isn't the book. I hope you liked my work, and please review. Thanks, and until next time..._

* * *

The six children grew older. As they did, they grew apart. Prosper and Bo left the others after a short time, because Bo had gotten very sick. Because Prosper was worried that the sickness might be serious, he had to take Bo to the hospital, where they were found out as homeless orphans. They were taken to the Merciful Sisters and adopted by a tourist couple from Australia.

They never saw the others again.

Mosca's boat got destroyed by a wind storm. He was let down, and decided to work to try and raise money for a new one, or to at least fix his damaged one. His charade of pretending he had parents worked for a while, until someone saw through his lie. He, too, was taken back to the orphanage. He stayed there until he was old enough to live on his own. He became a fisherman.

He never saw the others again.

Hornet loved her books, and after reading all of them several times over, and then having none left, she still wanted to read. She often went to the library nearby, where she and the librarian became fast friends. Hornet confessed to the young Miss Terelli that she was living on the street. Miss Terelli had sympathy, and took Hornet into her own household. She lived there until she married.

She never saw the others again.

Riccio stayed in the old warehouse for the longest. His stubborn personality withheld him from getting a job, so he stuck to the old ways of pickpocketing to get money for what he needed. Finally, when he was reasonably aged, he got a low paying job and a cheap apartment near the Stella. He would walk by the old movie theatre almost every day. And every day he would stop, stare, and sigh. He closed his eyes and he was suddenly around eleven years old again, arguing with Hornet, laughing with Mosca and Prosper, teasing Bo, and admiring Scipio. Once he opened his eyes, he shook his head, and kept walking.

He never saw the others again.

Scipio Massimo broke free from his father as soon as he could. He never wanted to see the man again. Interestingly, he did: every time he looked in the mirror. The career as a curator gave Scipio the potential to live a prosperous life, but he refused. He chose to live in a regular house on the canal. In the main room there was a photograph hanging on the wall. The photo was taken with a cheap camera, one picture among many. Scipio thought it was the only good once, the others having been of noses and cross-eyed people. This one, he thought, was perfect.

Riccio had an arm around Mosca's shoulders. Both were sticking out their tongues, the smile in their eyes. Hornet held Bo up so the little boy could see the camera. They, too, smiled broadly. Prosper leaned his elbow on Hornet's shoulder, grinning wryly. You could tell he wasn't too thrilled to be having his picture taken.

The Thief Lord stood in the back.


End file.
